


Blood Poisoning

by Ponderosa



Category: Smokin' Aces (2006)
Genre: Black Female Character, Black Male Character, Canon Character of Color, F/M, Female Character of Color, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-20
Updated: 2009-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-03 11:16:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponderosa/pseuds/Ponderosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heat swirls between them, reminds him of the kind of illusions that float on the horizon in Vegas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Poisoning

A woman who handles herself the way Georgia does can tell, no way around it, that he's got other things on his mind.

"You got yourself a woman?" she asks.

Ivy dips his hands in an ice bucket filled with water from the tap. It's gone from hot to tepid in the time it's taken to dress her wound. He glances up to the mirror reflecting the motel room bed and Georgia perched like an angel on the edge of it.

"Got one now."

Blood seeps through the outermost layer of bandages adhered carefully to her side, and Ivy starts making plans about where to get that looked at by a professional. The town's hot, crawling with Feds like ants roused from a particularly nasty hill, and there's nowhere legit to go that won't get them pinched. He got the bullet out though, and nothing vital was damaged. As long as they're careful, they'll slide on out.

Ivy rinses his hands, watching blood swirl away like smoke in water that's already tinged pink. "How long you going to keep a n---a company?"

Georgia lays back, her breasts flattening, and fuck but it feels like years since Ivy's seen a pair of tits that weren't more than half plastic.

"Depends, baby," she says. Her arms stretch upward to test the pull of the wound and the wrappings. "You fuck as good as you play doctor?"

Wiping his hands dry on a rough towel that's smaller and cheaper than the bible in the drawer, Ivy turns. "Breaks my heart that you ain't in any shape to find out."

"Says who?" Georgia's eyebrow arches upward, and the smile shaping her mouth doesn't come to her quick like a lie. "You ain't no real doctor. A woman knows her own body best."

"Yeah, well, promised to take care of that fine body, didn't I?" Ivy says, and he's smiling too when he crawls over her. "Might not be a real doctor, but I also ain't the kind of fool who can't keep his dick in his pants."

He hovers above her and thinks about kissing her. Heat swirls between them, reminds him of the kind of illusions that float on the horizon in Vegas, and for a heartbeat, the sweet smell of Georgia's hair hides the stink of blood and bullets. Smile fading, Ivy lowers himself down carefully beside Georgia and curls an arm around her as she inches close.

Somewhere, Israel was dead or dying. Might've used that devil's luck of his to make it out of there, but he'd already tied his noose. Broke himself, fuck, broke all of them with that deal.

The air conditioner rattles before it turns off and leaves them in silence.

"Missing your boy, aren't you," she says.

Ivy gathers her close. Put a bullet in Beanie and if that wasn't enough, he's got Israel's slug lodged in his chest, poisoning his blood. "Never should've died today."


End file.
